Every Picture Has a Story (Ib)
by ShaydeStar
Summary: Basically the story of Ib, I plan on using two different endings, the story i think is coming along great. Really though had no intention of uploading this.


In the early afternoon, under the grey sky…Ib and her parents were on their way to and art gallery.  
"Did you remember everything? Oh! Do you have your handkerchief? You know the one you got on your birthday? Keep it safe in your pocket, okay? Don't lose it."  
Ib nodded and felt the cloth in her pocket. She knew she wouldn't lose it, for it was dear to her, even though she just got it for her ninth birthday. It had her name embroiled into it in a baby blue color. Ib followed her parents to the information desk, where her parents were asking for pamphlets. Ib tugged on her moms sleeve.  
"What is it Ib?" Her mother asked sweetly with a bit of annoyance in her voice.  
Ib explained.  
"Ok, you want to go on ahead? Go ahead, just don't make a ruckus, not that you'll do that, I'm sure, just…be careful." With those words Ib left to wander around and look at art. She decided to check upstairs first. As she quietly went up the stairs, she couldn't help but notice how white the walls were, almost lifeless, as if it was being punished…as if…it were trying to cover up a story that was never meant to be told. Ib stared at the walls as if it dared for her to reach out and touch them.  
Ib shook away that feeling and reached the top of the stairs. She made a right, and then another right, coming face to face with some sculptures. In a roped area, there were three black statues of women. Looking as cold as marble. Each one wore a different colored dress, one was crimson red, another one was a dark navy blue. The last one was a light golden yellow. Ib looked up from there outfits and noticed that their heads were missing. Which made them quite creepy.  
Ib turned back around and quickly made a right which led her to pictures on the white plastered walls. There was one painting that caught Ib's eye. A beautiful woman with long chestnut hair, hazel eyes that seemed to twinkle as she smiled, showing her dimples, and a long ruby dress that seemed to flow like crimson tears running down a cheek. Ib walked closer and read the title: Lady in Red. Ib stared at the painting until it seemed as if the painting itself could not be there. Ib stepped back and head south of the painting. There was a younger girl about five or so looking at a painting of a midnight black cat, with glowing yellow eyes.  
"Oh! Look mommy a kitty!" the little girl shouted.  
"Hush! What did I tell you about yelling?" The mother scolded, then turned sheepishly around to Ib, "I'm sorry if my daughter bothered you." Ib only nodded and hurried forward…trying to ignore the shouting kid.  
She walked into a hall that was eerily silent. Nobody around…just Ib and that huge painting. The painting was sketches of all sorts of color, black, red, yellow, blue, green and purple…but mostly black. Ib touched the title frame delicately as if one small move would shatter it into a million pieces. The fake gold on the title fogged up a bit…but Ib didn't seem to notice. She read the title over and over again: ? World. Ib didn't understand the first word.  
As she stared at it her gaze shifted upwards to the picture itself. The colors etched so nicely. So colorfully, so happy, yet so dark, she couldn't take her eyes off it. It was truly beautiful. Ib forcefully took a step backwards and let go of the title. Snapping out of her trance like faze. She began to walk away when the lights flickered. She was immediately creeped out. She now only wanted her parents. As she began to retrace her steps, she noticed the mom and daughter weren't there anymore.  
She walked past the Lady in Red who's eyes seemed to follow Ib's every movement. Ib walked faster, noticing that no one was there. No one…but her… the lights dimmed, dark, causing Ib to screech and cower down on the ground burying her face in her knees. She sat there, crying, trying to figure out where someone. Anyone could be.  
She realized the only way for her to find out for sure would be getting up, and being brave. If her parent's needed her help she would find them. She decided she'd check back at the painting where it all started. As she walked back, every painting, every sculpture seemed to watch her every move. As she finally got back to the painting, Ib noticed the blue paint in the painting was dripping out, onto the wall. Ib hesitantly walked over to it, she looked closer and saw the paint, was words, words that sent a chill down to her bone: Come down below Ib, I'll show you someplace secret. As Ib reread the sentence over again. She was trying to figure out how whoever wrote that, knew her name and how had she not seen him or her? The only way to find out was, to go downstairs.  
As she wandered around the top floor looking for the stairs, she could of swore the cat picture meowed or the picture titled the coughing man coughed. She hoped it was just her mind playing tricks on her but she was doubtful…her mind wasn't this cruel. As she slowly made her way around the room she bumped into what she thought was a railing. A railing…for stairs…right? Ib was correct, it was the stairs, as she descended down into the darkness wondereing if she would make it out. When she got to the bottom floor, she could barely see, almost as if the dim light got dimmer, if that was even possible. She made a left and entered into the main room. She noticed a picture painted on the floor, roped off, of an angler fish, a sickly green color, in murky looking water.  
Ib went over to the title and read it: Abyss of the deep. She frowned, she wasn't exactly sure what the word abyss meant. She looked up and across from her the ropes were missing, she wasn't entirely sure, but she knew she saw something. She walked over there and saw exactly what she was scared of. Navy blue paint, so sickly familiar it made her stomach lurch. Before she knew it, she slipped, or was pushed, the water splashed around her as she struggled to fight to current pushing her down. She soon grew tired and gave up. She was only positive on one thing.  
Ib had just fallen into the painting.

**OMG this story is so much fun writing but i feel like im completley failing at writing it. Any ideas, i mean i know which ending im going to use, and ive planned it all out but i still feel like theres something missing any ideas and reveiws would be a great help. Please rate and follow this story :'D**


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